Iron Crowned by Richelle Mead Page B

end it easily, you know.”
    I jumped up from my bed as the ghost from the mountains appeared before me. Silently, I cursed myself for having packed up my weapons. Since my queenhood, attacks at home had dropped off, lulling me into a false sense of security. It was lazy of me. Foolish. With no care for the other carefully packed items, I upended my bag, dumping everything out. I grabbed my wand, expecting the ghost to attack.
    Instead, she just hung in the air, face blank. “You shouldn’t have come back,” I said, wand ready and pointed. Weary as I was, banishing magic tingled within me. “You should have stayed away.”
    She stayed motionless, uncaring of the threat I presented. “I told you. I can’t. I need your help.”
    “And I told you, I can’t help you.”
    “I can help
you,”
she said. “I can help you find the Iron Crown.”
    The magic welling within me paused and then I dropped it altogether. I eyed her warily. “How do you know about that?”
    She gave a weak shrug. “I’ve been following you.”
    I began the banishing again, quickly working out her words. Of course she could follow me. She was a strong ghost, one who could likely flit between this and the Otherworld as easily as I saw her move around here. The magic of the Otherworld, which concealed so many spirits, wouldmake her harder to detect there. Following—and spying—would be easy.
    “We’re done with this,” I said. Power coursed into the wand. Still, she didn’t flinch.
    “The Iron Crown,” she repeated. “I know where it is. I can lead you.”
    Again, I paused the banishing and recalled something Dorian had said. “The way is blocked to spirits.”
    “Yes,” she agreed. “But I know the starting point. You don’t even know that. I can take you there, and you can go the rest of the way on your own.”
    “I don’t believe you. I have no reason to. You could just get me mucked up in your little investigation and then disappear.”
    This finally brought about emotion. Anger flickered in those pale eyes. “‘Little investigation?’ This is my family! Their lives! They mean everything to me.”
    “Meant,” I corrected. “You need to cut your ties to this world.”
    Her lips flattened into a straight line, as though she fought to control her temper. “I’ll take you there first. After you have the crown, you’ll help me. I’ll be the one taking you at
your
word. You have nothing to lose.”
    “Nothing except my life,” I muttered. “A crown that does nothing except lead me on some lethal journey is a big gamble. I don’t even believe Masthera’s crazy logic.”
    “Other spirits say it can do what she says,” the ghost said. “They’re old. They remember it.”
    Well, that at least answered one of my questions. The dubious nature of the crown aside, I understood how a ghost like this would know about something so ancient. The grief that bound her to this world might make her strong, but she struck me as a new ghost, one that would hardly know about some legendary artifact.
    “It’s all ridiculous,” I said. “It’s time for you to go.”
    “It is,” she agreed. “Think about my offer. Summon me when you’re ready. My name is Deanna.”
    And as easily as she’d come, she disappeared, beating my banishing. Admittedly, it had less to do with my skill than with my own doubt. Her words had struck something in me. A tiny spark of wonder, wonder that maybe there was some wacky way to end this war. If the legends were true. If Deanna wasn’t lying. If I didn’t die setting out alone on a treacherous journey.
    Shaking my head, I once more chastised myself for letting her go. Next time. Next time I’d banish her to the Underworld as soon as I saw her face. For now, I had to go to Dorian. I’d wasted too much time. Hastily, I repacked my bag and went on my way.
    Tim and Lara still sat in the living room. Recognizing what the bag meant, Tim again muted the TV, an uncharacteristic look of concern on his